cYniCaLme

I’ve always thought and believed that blogging is one form of expression, not just by writers but also by ordinary people who’s got no place in the great art of literature whatsoever but wants to convey their feelings in a way. Clearly, it doesn’t have any rules…and not everything that you can read in it is creative. It can be like crap and it would still sound good for you because it seemed like you can see yourself through it. I don’t see the point of having somebody critic what you place in your blog most of the time and take it as a literary composition. I’d rather have everything I write in the newspaper and receive extremely vicious comments from people who had established a good reputation over their talents of being punitive of others works because they have to. It’s a job right??? But for others whose aim I do not know what, Are you literature’s St. Peter, and its up to you who belongs in the list? Or are you a literary police, ready to put those who doesn’t obey the laws of writing behind bars? Or does it simply give you pleasure to really make me think that I am nothing compared to you as a writer? …

I don’t even expect myself to be all productive when all I want is to simply express what I think and feel at that moment, it can either be structured or not, but who cares? It’s my ideas, my words, my twisted mind, my blog, my account! So I can do whatever the hell I want with it. I wish some nosy-eccentric*as he calls himself*-overbearing-jerk would get the memo. Unlike him, not everything I write in my blog is practically a piece of art. Hearing a criticism about how I feel is like taking away my right of expression, it doesn’t sound justified to me. I bet it would be the same for all those who live in a so called "democratic" country…Maybe it’s better to be an autistic deaf mute, at least I can say or do whatever the heck I want to express myself even if it is pointless and rather abnormal, it would still be okay. I know that I told this guy that he’s a good critic but damn, he should know where and when it should stop. Its kind of an overkill for me right now.

Does anybody know how exhausting this is??? I need to be driven to go on in this life, hearing my mother every single day pressuring me to take her outside of our miserable life, watching my other siblings suffer from my absolutely cutthroat-bastard-father, going to the school which would closely drive me to insanity with its standards, and struggling to not feel tired with all of this…I can’t afford to fail coz somebody else is paying for my tuition and the fate of, not exactly the world, but my whole family depends on my being a nurse, I can’t really have relationships coz for one thing, I don’t like it and another is my father would kill me, I can’t really go out coz’ I don’t have money, I’m feeling anxiety instead of releasing anxiety in our choir because of our conductor…all of my building up stress would then be relieved by the few waste-of-time yet relaxing activities that I have, like blogging, surfing the net and watching my favorite shows on dvd …the only ones that take me away from all of my nightmares…but unfortunately, I still have someone’s eye to condemn me for something that doesn’t serve to please anybody but myself.

Wow, amen to that… thanks a lot for making my life a lot less miserable. 

PS: Don’t worry, I’m not mad…really…you just happened to hit me at a bleakly wrong time..pardon my words..this is me being overly frank and b*tc*y..

Today, I’ve realized even more how much I really…I mean really…wanted to hate my father. But the thing is, I don’t really hate people. I just get annoyed with them. Holding grudges in your heart is much like the wound on a diabetic person’s body…the bacteria will feed off the glucose on it and then it’ll just grow bigger and bigger until you have to cut it off… if you get the point. But enough of the medical comparison. The original reality is here and now, in this life, and it cannot be compared with anything but sweat and blood because it’s just to damn hard to live. And I wanted to hate my life. I want to hate the mediocrity that’s coming out of me because I choose not to do my best so that I wont get disappointed if I fail. I want to hate our choir conductor for being so mad all the time. I want to hate my father’s small, rotten house which we get to live on because we have no choice. I want to hate my half-a-meter wide folding bed, in which you can’t really extend any part of your body horizontally cause, you might fall down….as well as my really small room where all you can do is spin around cause of the tiny space. I want to hate seeing my brothers and sisters entering the cycle of rejection that my father started with me. I want to hate the fact that I’m the one who holds the responsibility of turning the life of six other people around when I could just do as I wish with my life instead. I want to hate my choice of not getting married and have relationships because I just get irritated when somebody’s around and seeing my every move all the time, it’s my life, back off…only God has the right to do that…even if I’d be living alone in this world. I also wanted to hate my mother for being so damn weak in front of her husband and anybody else. I wanted to feel hate and then I wanted to get tired…I wanted to cry…then, die.

            But, I couldn’t do any of those. I couldn’t even feel that way…because I know that I can’t afford to give up. I don’t know why I don’t get tired. I’m nothing but a pessimist yet I still aim to get my family out of this hell and then go out into the world, and make it a better place even if it’s just 0.0000001 %. They always say, “You got a dream, might as well dream big” right? I’ve got a lot of questions. I reckon if making others happy will ever give me the happiness that I deserve in the end. What’s does the future hold for me? I’ve got my whole life planned out. They’d think, “Where’s the thrill in that? Where’s the thrill in seeing your life work out the way you want to?”…I never said that it would work out the way I wanted to. That’s the best part of it…that’s where the thrill is.  I’m ruled by my own choices but never did I ponder if it is right for me…I just thought that it is the right thing for other people, the people that I love of course. But here’s the twist… Am I just selfish by getting to do all of this stuff for other people because I want to gratify my ego? Because I wanted to feel thrilled how this laid-out plan goes? Am I unconsciously disregarding everything about myself for the sake of others because I want to be thanked and loved by others more than I wanted to help? Is the calling that I believe I have confabulated by my delusion of being selfless and not by God? – No…definitely not. These are just my fears. People could get confused about who I really am.

            For years that I have been living this life, I’ve been seeing its different angles. I want to change it, I want to be free from this, I want to free my family from this. Out of this energy-sucking situation…maybe away from my father and all the hate in life that is radiating from him, constantly being transferred to us. We are just helpless. I want our suffering to end…I don’t hate it because I learned from it and I became even more aware about its true meaning. My desire to reach out to others was strengthened by that peculiar dream…by the nun’s sight of my heart’s content…by my faith in God. They say it’s a calling, I say it’s a mission.

            So nobody has the right to say that I’m just some goody-two-shoes trying to be a saint or just a man-hater diverting my hate in another form…you have no freakin’ right to tell me that. You have no idea of who I am… I’m no saint, I’m no man-hater. I’m just human…trying to be strong for others, suppressing my feelings of weakness (because I know that it would destroy me)…my desires…for my choices. We are all trying to dedicate ourselves for something or someone…or else, what are we doing here? What is the purpose of our actions? Aren’t we all trying our best to be happy in the end? This is just my very own way. Before you judge me, just take a good look at your life and see where you’re headed and then get back at me when you think it’s better than where I’m going.